


wood stove, like a warm heart

by GerryStAmour, stubborn_jerk



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Benzaiten Steel Lives, Bad Cooking, Betaed, Cooking Lessons, Flirting, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mild Sexual Content, Nonbinary Character, Other, TNAminibang, Trans Male Character, Trans Peter Nureyev
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27057256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GerryStAmour/pseuds/GerryStAmour, https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubborn_jerk/pseuds/stubborn_jerk
Summary: There wasn’t a night that went by that Juno Steel wasn’t woken up in the wee hours of the morning, grumpy and bitter about living in an apartment building with shared vents between units. This time, however, Juno found himself being woken by the fire alarm for the whole building blaring before the smell of something burning reached his nose.The latter he was used to by that point. That didn’t make this entire situation less annoying or exhausting.-For the Trans Nureyev Agenda Discord server mini-bang!
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 38
Kudos: 127
Collections: Trans Nureyev Agenda Server Minibang!





	wood stove, like a warm heart

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the Trans Nureyev Agenda Discord server mini-bang!
> 
> Art is by the lovely [SJ](https://stubbornjerk.carrd.co/#contact)!! Absolutely phenomenal work if I do say so myself, so please go check them out and give them all the love in the world because seriously, their art? Phenomenal! 
> 
> Later this week, a podfic by the very lovely Floyd ([Tumblr](https://arsonadvocate.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/arsonadvocate) | [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/divorceadvocate)) 
> 
> Anyway, it's hardly super relevant to the fic, but you need to know that Nureyev is trans in this fic just....thems the rules.
> 
> The title is from The Best Treasure Stays Buried by Zoey Van Goey!

There wasn’t a night that went by that Juno Steel wasn’t woken up in the wee hours of the morning, grumpy and bitter about living in an apartment building with shared vents between units. This time, however, Juno found himself being woken by the fire alarm for the whole building blaring before the smell of something burning reached his nose.

The latter he was used to by that point. That didn’t make this entire situation less annoying or exhausting.

Juno got out of his bed and pulled a t-shirt on over his bralette and a pair of shorts over his lacy briefs. Across his studio apartment, a rabbit of considerable size was making grumpy noises from atop her luxurious bed, trying to keep her head buried beneath a pillow to block out the noise.

She was more closely related to a breed of rabbit found on Earth, which meant she wouldn’t get as large as Martian rabbits, but she was already pushing the weight restriction on pets. The fact that she was still growing was not lost on Juno either.

Making a sad face at his poor baby’s predicament, Juno grabbed his eyepatch and a leash off of a hook on the side of a kitchen cabinet.

“C’mon, Small Fry, let’s go,” he wearily mumbled as he approached her bed and clipped the leash onto the pink harness she wore. “The moron is burning the building down apparently.”

Next to Small Fry’s bed was the window to the fire escape, and below it was a pair of Juno’s sandals, which he quickly slipped on before climbing out.

A few short moments later, Juno and Small Fry found themselves standing across the street at the muster point, looking up at the building with twin dark looks. It was apparent there was no fire, but they still had to wait for the fire department to come. 

It was shaping up to be an early start to Juno’s day.

“I swear I’m going to file a formal complaint about that asshole, whoever they are.”

Juno glanced over to watch Benzaiten walk up, sour-faced and half-asleep as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his hoodie pocket. He lit one as he said, “I have to open the studio early tomorrow for a class, and I’ve gotten _maybe_ two hours sleep.”

“Sounds like you should’ve thought about that before staying up until one in the morning, Ben,” Juno lectured him half-heartedly, holding a hand out for a smoke. Benten readily handed him one and the lighter, rolling his eyes at Juno’s griping.

“Ugh, don’t Mom me, Juno,” Benten complained, and then he dropped to a crouch in front of Small Fry to pet her with his free hand. “And Princess Small Fry’s sleep was disturbed, too! How could they?”

Small Fry made a noise that sounded suspiciously close to “I know” and leaned into Benten’s petting.

Juno watched his brother and rabbit commiserate dramatically over the state of their sleep schedules with a raised eyebrow before taking a long drag of the cigarette. He made a face at the heat and the flavour of it, used to his vape as he was. Unfortunately, he had forgotten the stupid thing upstairs in his hoodie.

“Look at this, Juno, they’ve gone too far,” Benten whined, and Small Fry nodded.

“We’re not bitching to management just because a neighbour can’t cook, Ben,” he replied, rolling his eyes, but he really couldn’t argue how tiring this was getting.

It was the first time the whole building’s alarm was triggered, but every damn day, at three in the morning, the entire floor smelled like something awful burning. Juno was getting used to it, but after a month of it, he was at his wit’s end.

The first night Juno awoke to the smell of something burning, he panicked. He tore through the apartment, looking for the source of the flames, disturbing Small Fry which earned him a nasty nip to the wrist. When he found nothing, he was confused, but since the building’s alarm wasn’t going off, he realised it was likely a neighbour’s dinner gone wrong. 

At three in the morning.

Juno had sighed and resolved to just go to bed and ignore it. There was nothing to do about it anyway.

The smell was still there in the morning but less obtrusive. Juno quickly forgot about it after opening some windows and lighting some candles.

When the smell was back at three in the morning the next day, he just rolled over with a huff. He had dealt with worse neighbours than this; he could let bad cooking in the middle of the night go.

The day after that was the housewarming party for all of the new tenants that month, held by Buddy Aurinko. Buddy and her wife Vespa were among the original residents of the Carte Blanche Luxury Studios and Condos, and Buddy made it her job to welcome all newcomers. Every month, they would have a big party in the great room to break the ice and make friends. This helped both newcomers and long-time residents, as it also helped encourage less savoury people to move along quickly.

With the party that evening, Juno had decided to finish up researching a case early to put together some fancy stuffed mushrooms, a crowd favourite of his.

It was at the party that Juno first saw him from across the room, the most attractive man he had ever seen.

The man was very tall—even taller than Jet which Juno hadn’t even realised was possible—and incredibly lean. Even from his vantage point, Juno could tell the new tenant had sharp features and a blinding smile, and his long black hair was pulled back in a loose braid. Juno couldn’t help the brief fantasy of touching that hair but quickly squashed it before things became embarrassing.

Benten, however, had caught his distraction, followed his gaze, and clocked his interest.

“Uh-oh, Juno’s being predictable,” he sang, taking a sip of his sparkling wine with a knowing look.

“What?” Rita had asked, loud enough to stop most conversation around them, and looked around. “Who’s Mista Steel lookn’ at?”

The accusation from Benten smarted, of course, but the fact that Rita knew what Benten _meant_ just showed there was some truth to his statement. Well, _a lot_ of truth.

“That absolute bean-pole with the long hair, over there,” Benten replied, pointing at the man as he turned away and headed toward the door. “Looks like he’s leaving, Juno. You’re losing your chance.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean? I’ll see him around,” Juno scoffs, and glares at the dual flat stares Rita and Benten give him. “What?”

“Well, Mista Steel, I mean,” Rita starts, her voice full of concern. “In general, y’ really don’t, y’ know—”

“If you don’t do something impulsively and make an ass out of yourself, you’re probably not going to do it at all,” Benten interrupted, and Rita made an affronted noise on Juno’s behalf. She did not argue it though. “You also are completely incapable of platonic relationships with hot people. So, if you’re gonna sleep with him, make your move now. Otherwise, don’t come whining to me about how hot he is.”

Juno wished Benten was exaggerating. Unfortunately, it was the truth through and through. That didn’t mean Juno had to like it.

“I can ask him out when—no, if! I can ask him out _if_ I want to, whenever I want to,” Juno argued anyway, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the man disappear through the doorway. “I’m perfectly capable of asking people out in a planned, intentional way.”

Benten just rolled his eyes, and Rita made a sceptical noise in the back of her throat.

“ _And_ I can be just friends with hot people, too! You know what? I’ll _prove_ it to both of you!” Juno said resolutely, returning to people-watching with a sour look.

“Now what are you three trouble-makers up to over here?” came Buddy’s smokey voice as she walked over. “What have you done to get Juno so moody already?”

“Juno insists he can commit premeditated courting, rather than smash and dashes,” Benten replied with a snort of laughter. “And that he’s able to keep his clothes on around hot people.”

“I can!” Juno snapped, glaring at Benten before turning to Buddy. “C’mon, Buddy, you’ve got to believe in me.”

“Oh, darling,” Buddy said sympathetically instead, her visible eye twinkling with amusement and her mouth turned up in a small, pitying smile.

“You know what? This party sucks, as always Buddy,” Juno said with an explosive sigh as he throws his hands up, glaring at his friends as they laughed. “Just bring my casserole dish back when it’s done.”

There was no heat to his outburst, of course. They were right, and Juno couldn’t even pretend to argue that they weren’t. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t committed to proving them _wrong_.

And thus began his month of being woken up every night to the noxious fumes of something rancid being charbroiled in a pit of raw sewage while also trying to work up the nerve to talk to the hot new tenant.

The first, and also last time Juno had spoken to the new guy was by the mailboxes a week ago. Juno had just come in off the street during a surprise sandstorm.

He was covered in fine red dust from head to toe and carrying Small Fry, who was dead weight in his arms.

“Goddamn sandstorm. Why do we live here, Rita?” Juno complained into his comms, trying to haul Small Fry up into his arms better.

“Because we grew up here, Mista Steel,” she responded, sounding bored and distracted, likely watching one of her streams.

“Yeah, well, you know how the brat gets with a bit of sand. Like her skin is made of tissue paper or something,” Juno said with a grunt, shifting her so he could fish his keys out of his pocket to get the mail. In hindsight, he realised he should have just put Small Fry on the ground, but Juno wasn’t that smart.

“Boss, are you talking about Small Fry, or yourself?” she asked with a giggle.

“I’m obviously talking about the damn _rabbit_ , Rita!” he shouted and immediately knew he had made a big mistake.

In his arms, Small Fry began squeaking angrily at him while Rita also laid into him for talking about “his princess” like that, and that she had never done a single thing wrong ever, and Juno owes it to her to make her life the best ever.

Juno just groaned and worked on getting his mailbox open.

“Okay, Rita, Rita, Ri-- Okay, Rita! I get it!” Juno finally interrupted as he scooped his mail out of the box. Behind him, he heard the elevator ding, but he mostly ignored it.

“Do you get it, Boss? Because I don’t think you do!”

“Yes, Rita, now-- ah _shit_!”

Small Fry had decided, in a matter of milliseconds, that she was done being held and shook.

Now, if holding a rabbit of Small Fry’s size was difficult, holding her while she _shook_ was impossible.

Juno dropped her along with his mail, his keys, and his comms. It wasn’t long before Juno joined all of his stuff because Small Fry had immediately tried to take off while her leash was wrapped around his leg.

“ _Shit_ ,” Juno hissed, struggling to sit up while Small Fry continued to hop around at the end of her leash. Dabbing his nose with his fingers, he groaned when his hand came away covered in blood. “Goddamn it, Small Fry.”

“Are you alright?” came a concerned voice, and he could hear the steady click of heels as the person approached.

“The hell does it look like, pal?” Juno snapped as he turned to glare at the person, embarrassment burning in his gut at being seen like that.

When he finally actually focused on the person approaching him, he froze.

There he was, the man of his dreams, the tall stranger he saw from across the room at the party, who was now hesitating after Juno’s outburst. The first chance he had to speak to him, and there Juno was, covered in sand, blood, and being dragged by _a rabbit_.

But the man was just as handsome as Juno thought, so tall and lean as he was, his rose-tinted glasses slipping down his nose, and his long hair loose around his shoulders. He was _beautiful_ , Juno realised and his face heated up.

Juno dropped his forehead to the tile floor with a groan, before he yelped as Small Fry dragged him another foot.

“Can you do me a favour and grab the rabbit?” Juno asked frantically, as every time he tried to sit up, Small Fry would drag him again. The stranger immediately jumped to assist, his cheeks turning pink as he reached for the rabbit. “Careful! She—”

“Ah!” the man hissed, pulling his hand back a bit and shaking it, but he managed to wrangle her nonetheless.

“Bites…” Juno finished saying miserably, his face positively on fire as he rolled over and sat up, untying his leg. The stranger was struggling to hold Small Fry, his hand bleeding, and his dark outfit getting covered in dust and grey fur.

Juno knew in that instant that any chance he had with the man, platonic or otherwise, was pretty much over. Perhaps he could reason with Rita and Benten that it hadn’t been himself to ruin his chances? That particular fantasy was pretty much over as soon as it began, though, because blaming Small Fry was a nonstarter.

No, there was no way to return from this embarrassment, and he would just have to admire the man from afar.

“Small Fry, knock it off!” Juno shouted as he finally got free and stood up, grabbing the flailing rabbit from the man. She stilled immediately, which did nothing for Juno’s sour mood. Seeing the extent of the bite on the man’s hand had Juno flinching, however. “Shit, your hand.”

“Oh, this? This is nothing a little antiseptic, and a bandage won’t take care of,” the man replied with a winning smile, showing off a pair of sharp teeth. He was clearly lying about the severity of his injury, of course, but Juno was thoroughly distracted by those teeth for the moment.

“Hello?”

Juno blinked and shook his head. “Sorry, what? Were you saying something?” he asked, and the man looked deeply amused.

“I had asked if you were alright. There is quite a lot of blood on your face,” the man said, pulling out a handkerchief— _an actual handkerchief_ , who _does_ that?—and dabbed just below Juno’s nose lightly. “Did you hit your head at all?”

“Y-yeah—I mean, no! I didn’t hit my head, I mean I hit my face, but not my head. I’m fine though,” Juno babbled, stepping back from the man and putting Small Fry down. He picked his mail and his shattered comms up off the floor. “I mean, my comms and my nose are both probably broken, but it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Here, take this,” the man said, handing Juno the handkerchief. Juno was too embarrassed to refuse, and he held it under his nose.

“Thanks, uh, I’m Juno. Juno Steel,” he said quickly before he could think better of it. “Private Investigator.”

“That is a beautiful name!” the man gushed, and Juno thought that if his face got any hotter, it would literally burst into flames. “After the goddess, I presume?”

“Y-yeah, I guess so. My brother’s name is Benzaiten, so Ma had something for Goddesses,” Juno confirmed, shrugging. “Your name?”

“Rex Glass, it has been a pleasure to meet you!” the man said pleasantly, but something like regret passed over his face. It was gone as quickly as it came, but it was strange enough that it had Juno watching him a bit more closely.

“Yeah, pleasure meeting you, too,” Juno said, and then he nodded his head toward the elevators. “I’m going to go get cleaned up now. See you around.”

Juno was gone in a flash, and moped for the rest of the afternoon in his apartment, cuddling with Small Fry on his couch. That night, when the moron on his floor messed up their meal, it was exceedingly terrible because the sandstorm kept him from being able to open his windows.

Of course, even with the embarrassment of their first meeting, Juno was curious to know where Rex lived in the building. But there appeared to be _no_ Rex Glass on the roster.

Granted, Juno didn’t have access to the official “roster” of the building, but there was no “Glass, R.” on the switchboard for guests to get in. So was Rex just a guest, visiting a resident regularly? Or was he someone’s partner? Juno pouted at that thought, but it was the one that made the most sense. There was no “Ilkay, V” on the switchboard either because she lived with Buddy, so that would explain the lack of Rex’s name.

Plus, Rex was way too hot to be single.

And that was where his month of resignation and frustration had ended, with him shivering on a sidewalk in the middle of the night wearing only his pyjamas and smoking a cigarette. At the same time, his brother cooed and complained to his pet rabbit.

Truly, Juno was moving up in the world.

“Uh-oh, Juno,” Benten suddenly said with a snicker as he stood and grabbed Small Fry’s leash. “Look who’s coming!”

Before Juno could question him, Benten and Small Fry were gone from his side. When he turned to look for them, his gaze met the dark eyes of Rex Glass, and he almost choked on his tongue.

Of course, he was beyond handsome, which was honestly rude given it was three in the goddamn morning and they were forced out of their homes by some idiot who couldn’t cook. 

Rex was wearing a pair of colourful tights and a silk camisole. One of the straps had slipped off of Glass’ shoulder, which presented Juno with the temptation to fix it, which he steadfastly ignored. Glass’ long dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and while he was yawning, it was apparent he had been awake if his makeup was anything to go by.

“Hello, Juno,” Rex greeted, and Juno realised that he had walked over to speak _to him_. Specifically.

“Hey… Glass,” Juno said haltingly, smiling weakly up at him. Rex was so tall, Juno realised all over again, and he wasn’t even wearing heels this time. 

“Where is your delightful little rabbit?” he asked, looking around at the ground.

“My brother ran off with her just a minute ago,” Juno replied, snuffing out his cigarette and tossing it into the nearby garbage. “Surprised you didn’t see him. Looks just like me, but still has all the good looks and both eyes.”

“I fear I only had eyes for you, my dear Juno,” Rex said with another winning smile, and Juno thought his heart might burst out of his chest.

“Hey, quick question, Glass,” Juno said, turning the conversation elsewhere before he embarrassed himself. “Your name isn’t anywhere on the switchboard. Are you just visiting someone? Live with someone?”

At that, Rex looked a bit sheepish, and reached up to rub the back of his neck. “I’ve been hoping for a chance to clear that up with you. My name is _not_ Rex Glass, at all,” he confessed, laughing a bit at Juno’s questioning stare.

“Is this a… a witness protection kind of thing?” Juno asked with a laugh. “And you just forgot to give me your new name?”

“Oh, no, no. I wish it were something less stupid like that,” Not-Rex said with a sigh. “No, I just panicked.”

Juno waited for him to elaborate, and when Not-Rex didn’t, he prompted, “...about?”

“I… tend to give fake names to people,” Not-Rex began, and his cheeks were flushed as he confessed. “I’m used to being hit on, and the cheesy pick-up lines, _ugh_ , so… I keep my identity a secret most of the time.”

Juno blinked up at the man before looking away, feeling a bit disappointed. Of course, Not-Rex was in high demand, and of course, he was sick of it. That for sure marked the end of any attempts to court him, Juno thought a bit sadly.

“I wasn’t trying to pick you up,” Juno said after a moment as the confusion caught up.

“I am aware, Juno,” Not-Rex replied with a smirk. “Can’t say I’m not a little disappointed about that.”

“I had blood, like _pouring_ out of my nose,” Juno added, ignoring the teasing comment.

“Yes, I remember,” Not-Rex laughed.

“Small Fry _bit_ you,” Juno continued, gesturing at his hand. “And I can literally see you needed stitches.”

“Only a couple and Dr Ilkay was very accommodating,” Not-Rex replied. “I’ve had worse injuries than a little bunny bite like this, darling.”

“But, w-why would you think I was hitting on you after all of that?” Juno finally asked.

“I didn’t,” he said with a sheepish little shrug. “As I said, I panicked. I was surprised by the whole situation, and when confronted by a handsome lady asking for my name, I defaulted to old habits.”

“Wow, that’s… weird, but I guess I buy it,” Juno said, his face hot with being called handsome. “So, are you going to give me your real name? Or?”

“Oh, right, of course,” Not-Rex said, sounding a bit flustered as he offered his hand. “Peter Nureyev.”

Juno could remember a name similar to that on the switchboard, and nodded, accepting the proffered hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Nureyev.”

“And same to you, Juno,” Peter replied, smiling wide and once again Juno was distracted by the sharp teeth.

“So, uh, which one of these idiots do you think set off the alarms?” Juno asked, clearing his throat and looking around appraisingly.

“That was me, of course,” Peter said and offered nothing further when Juno looked back up at him.

“What?” Juno asked flatly, refusing to believe that it was _Nureyev_ —gorgeous, tall, smooth Nureyev that was so hot he had to give people _fake names_ to be left alone—was the disaster cook. “Because… you’re so hot?”

“No, because I put the oil on after I added the meat,” Peter admitted, before turning a smile down toward Juno and winking. “I’m glad you think so, though. I’ve been feeling a bit bloated. You know how it is.”

“It’s been _you_ waking me up every night with your _awful_ cooking?” Juno asked, absolutely bowled over by this revelation.

“I’m not sure, have I?” Peter asked, and his blush returned in full force.

“If you’re the one burning shit every night at three in the morning, then yeah, you have!” Juno said, trying to reconcile this beautiful man with the bane of his existence for the past month. “This can’t be real; it just can’t.”

“I’m afraid it is, my dear detective,” Peter said with a dejected sigh. “Never had a chance to learn, so I’m largely self-taught.”

“I can’t let this happen,” Juno said definitively, meeting Peter’s gaze. “You’re letting me teach you how to cook, Nureyev.”

“Am I, now?” Peter asked with a delighted grin.

“Yes, because I am sick and tired of losing sleep,” Juno said, though his proper reasoning was to have any excuse to spend time with Peter. He was off-limits for hitting on, and Juno had a point to prove to Benten, Rita, and Buddy. “Plus, you can’t look like _that_ and be a shitty cook.”

Peter smiled down at Juno and Juno tried to ignore the backflips his stomach did. “That sounds fun. How about you swing by tomorrow, and we can hash out the details about our little lessons?”

“Y-yeah,” Juno said, stuttering when Peter leaned down, the scent of his cologne filling his lungs. After a moment, he realised the man was just bowing before turning to head back into the building. The fire department had given them the all-clear, but Juno hadn’t even noticed, so distracted was he by Nureyev. “Wait, Nureyev! What time?”

“Whenever my dear detective! I assure you, I am free all day!” Nureyev replied, giving a small wave before disappearing into the building.

“So that seemed to go well,” Benten said, reappearing next to Juno and handing him Small Fry’s leash.

“Yeah,” Juno said absently, inwardly panicking at the thought of going over to Peter’s apartment the next day. But there was also a layer of excitement that he couldn’t quite squash. “Yeah, I guess it did.”

* * *

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Juno groaned, dropping his face into his palm.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Juno looked up at Peter, ready to snap something petty about how he _knows_ what’s wrong, and it was only cute to play the hapless kitchen idiot the night before at three in the morning while Juno was freezing his tits off on the curb. But Peter looked so legitimately baffled, and the sarcasm dried up in his throat. The man was actually this dumb in the kitchen, so Juno had to play nice.

And it _was_ still kind of cute.

“Okay, Nureyev, let’s start with what’s _right_ in this kitchen,” Juno said slowly, taking a deep breath and looking around.

There wasn’t much. The entire apartment was sparsely decorated, with no art on the walls and streamlined furniture, empty side tables, and a plain black duvet. Juno felt bad for Peter, that he lived in such dull surroundings.

Finally, his eye landed on an old, beat-up rice maker. It was obviously well-used, but it appeared to work just fine.

“This! You know how to use this, right?” Juno asked, gesturing at the rice maker.

“Of course I do, Juno,” Peter replied as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

After that, Juno couldn’t find anything else.

“That was one thing,” Peter pointed out, and Juno huffed.

“I know that Nureyev, just _look at this_ ,” Juno snapped while he gestured wildly at the handful of utensils on the kitchen island.

There was one metal spatula with a melted handle, two horrifically scratched non-stick pans, one small pot, and a tiny warped plastic cutting board.

“Where are your knives, Nureyev?” Juno asked, gesturing again.

“Oh, I have lots,” Peter replied happily and pulled a knife with a wicked blade out of a concealed holster at his hip.

Juno stared at it for several long moments before glancing up at Peter’s face. After waiting for a punchline, Juno said quietly, “You’re not joking, are you.”

“Why would I joke about this, Juno?” Peter asked, his expression so endearingly confused that Juno was finding it difficult to stay annoyed with him. If anything, it made Juno want to kiss him senseless, and that was completely unhelpful.

“Okay, okay,” Juno finally said, rubbing his face with both hands. “Here’s what we’ll do. We're going to go shopping, get you set up with some basic stuff. Then how about tomorrow evening, you come over to my place for dinner, and I can show you something easy.”

Juno felt his face flush at his wording, especially when Peter raised one perfect eyebrow. Thankfully, Nureyev didn’t go for low-hanging fruit with his humour.

“Shopping together already? How domestic,” Nureyev teased, winking at him as he spun his knife and sheathed it again.

“Don’t look too much into it,” Juno said flatly, trying to calm his wildly beating heart as he went back to the front door to put his shoes on.

The next day, Juno woke up in a panic. He had eight hours to clean his whole apartment and prepare mentally for Peter being there. 

The shopping trip the day before had been _fun_ , even if he found it ridiculous that a grown man in his thirties had no idea what a whisk was and that he had to explain why one cannot use metal utensils in non-stick pans. Nureyev had been funny, clever, and engaged the whole time, but he was also an incorrigible flirt.

That did not help his mission to prove two things; firstly, he wasn’t like the other people Peter had dealt with in the past and, secondly, he could be Peter’s friend _without_ hopping into bed with him.

So Juno spent his day furiously scrubbing every surface he could reach, vacuuming the floors and cleaning up Small Fry’s bed. Once everything was clean and practically sparkling, Juno jumped into the shower. If he took extra time shaving his legs and moisturising no one could prove it was for any particular reason. 

Same with him changing out his sheets for one of his softest sets. The sheets were dirty and they needed to be changed anyway. Plus, they were soft and his legs were clean-shaven so that they would feel nice at bedtime.

Benten climbed in through his window about forty-five minutes before Peter was set to arrive for their dinner. Looking around, he snorted at the scented candles that were set up around the space and lit. Benten shook his head and began grabbing Small Fry’s leash and other miscellaneous items.

“What, Benten?” Juno asked as he fiddled with his blouse in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door.

“Just think this is a bit much for something supposedly platonic,” Benten replied, sitting down on the edge of Small Fry’s bed and cuddling with her. She mewled in agreement. “The only thing missing from this picture is a box of condoms on the bedside table.”

“Well, it is just a friendly cooking lesson and dinner,” Juno replied defensively, his face almost painfully hot, and Benten made a sceptical noise.

“Then why am I taking Small Fry for the night, Juno?”

“Th-that’s not— it’s just— she would b-be a distraction, you know? And also rabbit hair? In the food?” he said quickly and when Benten smirked knowingly, Juno felt briefly fratricidal. “Just get out of here already. I have other stuff to get done.”

Benten all but cackled as he hooked up Small Fry’s leash and coaxed her out the window and onto the fire escape. He poked his head back in and asked, “you weren’t planning on wearing _that_ were you?”

Juno looked down at himself, but before he could ask what was wrong with his outfit, Benten was already gone.

After three outfit changes, Juno settled on one of his more flowy skirts and a black crop top with a wide neckline, allowing for one sleeve to slip down off of his shoulder. This was purely a coincidence, and not at all a planned attempt to maybe entice Peter with his bare neck and shoulder. Juno definitely did not consistently fantasise about Nureyev’s sharp teeth biting him there at all.

When Nureyev arrived, Juno felt ready to claw his way out of his skin. And of course, the moment Juno opened the door; he was immediately regretful of the entire endeavour.

Peter was stunning, as always. His hair was braided loosely, and he wore a pair of very fitted slacks, a lace top under an elaborately embroidered corset, and a perfectly tailored blazer. And those wicked teeth all but shone in the low lighting, distracting Juno completely for several moments.

“May I come in, darling?”

Juno blinked quickly, and when he brought attention back to the man on his doorstep, he felt breathless all over again. 

“Y-yeah, of course, yeah,” Juno stammered, stepping aside.

“Thank you. You look gorgeous, my dear,” Peter complimented effortlessly before looking around, grinning at the decor. Notably, the portraits of Small Fry hanging from most available spaces on the walls. “Absolutely charming apartment, Juno.”

“Thanks,” Juno said, feeling himself blush at the compliment. “Here, let me take your coat?”

Juno immediately regretted the offer when Peter immediately took him up on it, and Juno was now stuck seeing him in a completely see-through lace top and corset for the evening. Peter smirked at him and went about wandering around the apartment looking at things while Juno prepped the kitchen.

“Where is Small Fry?” Peter asked, and he legitimately sounded disappointed.

“She’s spending the night with my brother,” Juno replied quickly, even as his hands shook. He looked at Peter and watched him walk across the room to sit down on the edge of Juno’s bed. Swallowing thickly, Juno decided he most definitely imagined the sultry look Nureyev gave him through his lashes.

“So the kiddo is out for the whole night?” Nureyev asked, locking his arms as he leaned back onto his hands, showing off the long, lean line of his body.

Juno’s face felt like it was about to combust, and he cleared his throat. “Yup,” he said, his voice high-pitched and strained. “You know, I have a couch.”

“Yes, and it is a charming couch,” Nureyev acknowledged, smirking when Juno glared at him.

“So why don’t you sit there instead?” Juno asked, turning his attention back to setting up the kitchen.

“Well the couch doesn’t face the kitchen,” Nureyev complained. “How else am I to talk to you, Juno?”

“There’re chairs at the island right here,” Juno countered, biting the inside of his cheek.

“But this is so much comfier.”

At that, Juno looked up and almost choked on his spit. Peter had lowered himself to his elbows and lounged fully across his duvet. All the while, he watched Juno with a teasing gaze.

“Okay, knock it off, Nureyev. Get over here, and I’ll show you how to make a quick meal,” Juno said, swallowing hard to calm himself down. 

“I can think of a quick meal I could go for right now,” Peter said, and Juno rolled his eyes at that, even if the comment had heat flashing through him.

“Har har, Nureyev, now are you getting up or not?” Juno asked, and then cringed at his wording. “And _don’t_ say it. You’re too clever for that easy of a joke.”

“Who says I would be joking, Juno?” Peter asked, but he did stand and join Juno on his side of the island.

“We’re going to start with knife skills. I want you to dice up the sweet potatoes into pieces about the size of the tip of your thumb,” Juno said, ignoring the comment completely and beckoning Nureyev to take his place at the cutting board.

“Oh, Juno, I’m not sure I’m doing this right at all,” Peter said after a few minutes, drawing Juno away from his task of getting spices from the cabinet.

Sure enough, the pieces of sweet potato were all uneven in size, and Nureyev was using the wrong size of knife entirely. When Juno looked at him, Nureyev tucked in tight to the counter and pulled his elbows in snug to his sides, glancing pointedly behind him.

“Come show me?” he said in a suggestive tone with a wink.

Juno rolled his eyes at that, knowing Peter was just messing around and immediately shouldered him out of the way. Juno relished the startled squawk when Nureyev almost tumbled right to the floor.

“Grab another cutting board from the cabinet, and I’ll show you,” Juno replied and began cleaning up the mess Nureyev made of his first sweet potato.

“Oh, okay, of course,” Nureyev said after a moment, and again there was that endearing confusion that had Juno feeling smitten all over again.

After that, Nureyev put on a good show of learning the in’s and out’s of a good tray-bake, his face serious with concentration while Juno explained what herbs he used on the SiMeat versus the spices he used on the vegetables. There was only one more inappropriate joke when Juno brought out the oil, but Juno let it slide because it was quite clever.

When the food was done baking, Juno and Nureyev took their plates to the couch where they argued over what stream to watch before they settled on some period drama set in the 21st century. They barely watched the stream, mostly just eating and talking about themselves.

“So, do you ever sleep?” Juno asked after a while.

“Of course I do, Juno. I don’t sleep for very long, more like little naps every few hours,” Nureyev replied with a chuckle, and his gaze turned suggestive. “I sleep very well after physical exercise, of course.”

Juno bit the inside of his cheek and deposited his plate on the coffee table in front of them before settling back on the couch and crossing his legs.

“Everyone sleeps better after exercise, Nureyev. That’s nothing special,” Juno deflected, snorting at the tease.

“Oh, Juno,” Nureyev laughed, putting his empty plate down as well. He patted Juno’s leg, bare as it was with his skirt hiked up a bit. Juno’s breath stopped in his throat as Nureyev’s hand rested lazily just above Juno’s knee, lingering there while his thumb stroked his skin. “You certainly know how to motivate a man.”

Juno looked up at Peter’s face, and if Juno didn’t know better, he would have said Nureyev’s expression was heated. It was that moment when the scent of Peter’s cologne really hit him, and he was leaning closer without thinking. And perhaps he was beginning to lose it because it really seemed like Nureyev was leaning in as well.

There’s a moment of panicked flailing in Juno’s head at the thought that Peter might kiss him. That Nureyev _wanted_ to kiss him.

That was too much to think about and hope for, and besides; he still had a point to prove to Benten, Rita, and Buddy.

Juno stood up quickly, smoothing his skirt down and grabbing their plates. “Good job tonight, Nureyev,” he said quickly, hurrying to the kitchen with the plates and utensils.

“Yes, of course, thank you,” Nureyev said, his tone baffled and when Juno looked at him, he caught Nureyev watching him curiously. Then Nureyev smiled warmly, and Juno’s stomach lifted up into his throat like he was in free-fall. “I had an excellent teacher.”

They agreed to meet again the next evening in Nureyev’s apartment, and thus began another month of a whole different sort of torture for one Juno Steel.

After that first night, Nureyev had backed off on the flirting—he was less handsy and spent much less time turning everything Juno said into an innuendo. While he should have felt relieved, Juno found that he was just disappointed, that perhaps he had been misinterpreting it all along. Then there was the consideration that it had been a test, and Juno passed so now Nureyev was being more open and genuine with him.

That didn’t seem like Peter’s style, but he considered it nonetheless. And Peter being open and honest with Juno had a terrible effect on his attempts to not want to sleep with him. After about a week of sharing dinners and late evening conversation, Juno found himself, unfortunately, properly falling for Nureyev.

He began doing things like putting together ingredients and writing out detailed instructions to leave on Nureyev’s doorstep on the evenings they couldn’t have dinner together. And of course, all of the instructions were meticulously handwritten—he didn’t know how to use a computer well enough to type them up, and figuring out the printer was a non-starter. 

It was really the only way to do it for Nureyev when he thought about it. Benten saw it a bit differently. 

The first time he walked in on Juno hunched over at the counter, scribbling out a recipe in his neatest handwriting, he had immediately begun teasing Juno about it. Supposedly, Juno never did this for anyone, and why doesn’t he just ask Nureyev out, and it was getting pathetic watching them dance around each other. Then that turned into an argument, which turned into Small Fry screaming until they both stopped yelling and doted on her instead.

But between Juno’s caseload and… whatever Nureyev did for a living (Benten was convinced he was a drug dealer, Rita thought he was a “supah spy”), they were seeing less and less of each other. And Peter was a quick learner, which meant that even when they had the time, the excuse about teaching him to cook was becoming flimsier and flimsier. 

Rita suggested that Juno just ask him to come over to hang out, but Juno didn’t feel like there was a way to do that without letting on just how far gone he was.

Then Buddy announced her next housewarming party and declared that it was a potluck and cooking competition. Everyone in attendance was required to bring something to share, and the meals would be judged by Jet. Juno was hardly worried, and already had a dish in mind. There were some elements he would have to adjust for certain sensitivities and allergies, which presented a problem for Juno to solve.

He was mulling it over the evening the party was announced when he got home after a particularly lengthy stakeout. Juno’s brain felt like mush, however, so he decided to take a shower.

It was the first properly luxurious shower he had been able to treat himself to in days, and luxuriate he did. Finally, the tension in his shoulders released and Juno felt human again.

When he stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, he let out a startled yelp when he saw someone was in his apartment, trying to sneak out the window.

“Benten, what the hell are you doing?” Juno snapped while he worked to calm his frantically beating heart.

“I was just checking on Princess Small Fry, and also I brought by your laundry,” Benten said quickly, pointing at the basket of clean clothes on the bed. Juno narrowed his eyes at Benten, knowing his brother was lying about something but he couldn’t tell what.

Juno glanced around the apartment, but he couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. “Thanks, Benten,” Juno bit out before waving him off. “Let me get dressed, thanks.”

“Please do!” Benten replied with a mischievous smirk and climbed out the window.

Juno put on a bralette and a pair of tight boxer-briefs and began folding the clothes in the basket. Small Fry had sprawled out across his bed at some point during his shower and was snoring lightly.

“Juno, you have to help me.”

Small Fry snorted as she awoke to the front door swinging open and Juno actually squawked. Startled even further by Juno’s shout, Small Fry kicked out her huge feet and knocked the basket, sending it flying off the end of the bed. Juno scrambled after it, cursing as he bent over and began picking up his clothes off the floor.

It took a few moments for his brain to catch up; there was an intruder, the intruder came through the front door, and Juno was bent over with his back to the door.

Whipping around, Juno’s gaze locked with Peter’s, though his eyes were tracking lower than his face. Juno was so stunned by the intrusion that he stood there watching Peter stare at him, watching the way his dark eyes moved up and down his body. 

If Juno didn’t know better, Peter seemed _interested_.

There was the sound of paper crinkling and Juno realized Nureyev was holding some sort of flier. It was a small noise, but it was enough to break them both out of their trance.

“Nureyev, what the hell--”

“I am _so_ sorry, Juno, I--”

“Turn around!” Juno finally shouted and Nureyev immediately spun on the spot. It was obvious Peter was blushing, the back of his neck and the tips of his ears a dark red and Juno found it endearing. 

He quickly set about pulling on a pair of tights and one of his slouchy sweaters, grumbling, “can’t a lady have some privacy around here?”

“My apologies, Juno, I wouldn’t have barged in like this had I known,” Nureyev said quickly, and Juno scoffed.

“Why the hell would you just _walk_ into someone’s apartment?” he asked sceptically.

“I stopped by Benzaiten’s place to see if you were in— I had been by earlier and you weren’t home. He told me you _were_ — I mean, he came over to check that you were home, and you were, so he told me to just walk in,” Nureyev explained quickly and Juno rolled his eyes.

Of course, Benten orchestrated this. Then he groaned, tipping his head back as he realized that had been why his brother was in his apartment a few minutes ago; he had been there to unlock the front door. Juno glanced at the window and just barely caught Benten’s face disappearing from view.

“You can turn around, Nureyev,” Juno said as he sat heavily on one of the stools at the island, exhausted from his stakeout and now his brother’s petty prank. “I’m dressed.”

Peter turned around slowly and Juno saw the concern flit across his features. “Juno, are you alright?” he asked as he walked over to sit with him at the island.

“Yeah,” Juno fibbed, sighing and rubbing his face. “Had a long day. What’s up? You said you needed help?”

“That can wait. Have you eaten?” Nureyev insisted, getting up and moving around the island to start looking through his cabinets.

“What are you doing?” Juno asked after a few minutes of watching Peter putter around, his heart racing a bit.

“I’m making you dinner,” Nureyev replied, smiling warmly at him when he pouted. “I’ve had an excellent teacher, and I would like to repay him _somehow_.”

“You don’t have to make me dinner, Nureyev,” Juno said weakly, biting the inside of his cheek.

“I know I don’t have to, Juno. I want to,” Peter said earnestly, and Juno felt like butterflies were swarming in his stomach at his smile. “It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done to help me. And also for barging in here and startling poor Small Fry like that.”

It was at that moment that Juno realized Small Fry was snuggled in against the side of Nureyev’s leg, looking up at him with wide eyes full of love. Also desperation for dropped scraps, but it was mostly love. That was another problem for Juno. If he was attached, and the rabbit was attached, that just made the whole situation more complicated.

“And what about barging in on me in my underwear?” Juno asked, and his breath caught in his throat at the intense look he received.

“Unfortunately, I can’t say I’m too sorry for that,” he confessed, and Juno swallowed thickly. 

Juno rolled his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. “Uh-huh, sure. So what did you come by for help on?” he asked, grabbing the piece of paper Nureyev had left on the counter next to him. It was one of the fliers for Buddy’s party and he laughed. “You’re worried about the potluck, Nureyev?”

“Of course I am, Juno! If you don’t recall, it was only a month ago I forced the entire building out of their beds in the middle of the night. Worse than that, _Jet_ is the judge and I would like to have _some_ of my dignity left by the end of the party,” Peter fussed, and his cheeks were pink. Juno couldn’t have helped the fond smile even if he wanted to, and Peter frowned at him. “What?”

“Nothing. Just kinda funny seeing you anxious about something,” Juno admitted, leaning on the counter with his elbow, his chin in his hand. “It’s cute. You’re usually so, I don’t know--”

“Arrogant? Conceited?” Nureyev supplied, chuckling.

“I was going to say ‘sure of yourself’ or ‘confident’, but yeah, I guess those work, too,” Juno teased with an eye-roll. 

“Well, will you help me?” Peter prompted, and Juno shrugged.

“Let me eat dinner, and we’ll see how much help you actually need, okay?”

They passed the time after that relatively quietly, Peter occasionally supplying conversation about his day, and how his week had been. 

Soon enough, though, Juno had a full plate of pasta in front of him and Peter was sitting down next to him. Peter was watching him closely as Juno lifted the first forkful to his mouth, and for a moment Juno considered messing with him a bit.

But he looked so anxious, his face an open book for anyone to read, and Juno felt that ache in his heart sharpen.

“This is really good, Nureyev,” Juno said, completely honest as he shovelled another forkful into his mouth. “You really don’t need any help.”

“But what do I _make_?” Nureyev asked, even as he preened under the compliment.

“I’ll get you the recipe for one of Jet’s favourites if you want,” he replied, and he couldn’t help the sad note to his voice. “But you’ve honestly graduated from my lessons.”

There was a beat of silence before Peter asked, “Juno, are you alright?”

“Yeah, Nureyev, I’m fine,” he said before shrugging. “Just started to enjoy your company a bit.”

“Why wouldn’t you be continuing to enjoy my company?”

Juno looked at him sharply and the man’s obvious bewildered confusion had him faltering for a moment. “Because you were coming over to learn to cook, and now you know how?” Juno replied haltingly and frowned at Nureyev’s bark of laughter.

“Juno, did you think I was truly coming over here almost daily just to learn to cook?” Nureyev asked, and then he placed his hand on top of Juno’s where it sat on the counter holding his fork. “I was interested in learning, and I’m grateful for everything you have taught me, but you have to know my actual intentions.”

At that, Juno just blinked at him, and Nureyev laughed a bit.

“I thought asking to teach me how to cook was a line of some sort, and I was sure you were going to make a move that first night,” Nureyev explained in a rush and Juno scrunched up his face.

“So it _was_ a test,” he muttered and Nureyev laughed again.

“No, Juno! I was very much _wanting_ you to make a move,” Nureyev groaned, pushing his glasses up a bit to massage the bridge of his nose.

“What?” Juno asked flatly.

“Juno, darling,” Nureyev said, dropping his hand to meet Juno’s gaze firmly. “I have been _hopelessly_ smitten with you since your beautiful Small Fry ripped my hand open with her impressive set of teeth.”

“You needed _two stitches_ ,” Juno snapped before the rest of the sentence landed in his head. “Oh… but you… the fake name. I thought… ?”

“Yes, the fake name and the blunder. I wanted you to feed me some cheesy pick-up line and ask me out, and in the confusion of all the blood, and the rabbit,” Nureyev sighed. “Like I said, I panicked.”

“Oh my god,” Juno groaned, tipping his head back with a laugh. “Benten’s not gonna let me live this one down.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Just a dumb, stupid point I was trying to prove to my brother,” Juno sighed heavily before looking back at Nureyev’s face. “I told him I would prove to him that I could be friends with hot people without impulsively sleeping with them.”

“Oh? And when did this wager happen?” Nureyev asked, an amused smirk spreading across his face.

“When I saw you at Buddy’s housewarming party for the first time,” Juno admitted in a strained voice, and he couldn’t help his own chuckle when Nureyev laughed. With a sigh, he asked, “is there any chance I didn’t completely blow it?”

“Juno,” Nureyev started, lifting his hand to cup Juno’s cheek, and his smile was so fond it knocked the breath out of his lungs. “I’m not sure it would have been possible for you to ‘blow it.’ I am still very interested in more than just cooking lessons.”

Juno furrowed his brow, searching Nureyev’s face, tilting his head against his hand. Throwing whatever caution he ever entertained to the wind, Juno pressed forward for a kiss. Nureyev opened for it with a sigh, moving his hand to hold the back of Juno’s head and pull him in closer.

There was a moment when everything was perfect, and Nureyev was pulling him in close. Juno began grasping at Nureyev’s clothes, almost moving to crawl into his lap as those sharp teeth bit into his bottom lip. He was ready to drag Nureyev to the bed and be done with their stupid accidental game of cat and mouse.

And then Small Fry began wailing, startling them apart and Juno looked for her wildly. She was sitting next to her food bowl with the closest thing to a glare a rabbit could manage, and then she kicked it over with a loud clatter.

“Okay,” Juno said breathlessly, nodding determinedly. He looked at Peter. “I’m going to feed her and take her next door. You stay here, and we’ll… figure out the rest of our evening?”

Nureyev smirked and pressed a chaste kiss to Juno’s cheek. “That sounds perfect, Juno.”

“That’s great,” Juno said with a nod, smiling as he set about getting Small Fry’s food. “That’s perfect.”

The next day Juno tried to be grumpy about the mess in the kitchen, and he tried to be grumpy at Benten’s smug smirk when he picked Small Fry up well after breakfast while he sported several brand new hickeys. 

But he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed himself, nor how good his sleep had been afterward.

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a kudo and a comment!
> 
> Please send lots of love to SJ who is simply freaking amazing for the beautiful art they have provided for my fic!
> 
> If you would like to keep up with my shenanigans, you can find me at [these socials](https://gerbear.carrd.co/#links)!


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